Male Bonds Form Differently, Women's Relationships Another. Ought We Stop Trying to Make Men More Like Women?

It's good to talk. That's what men are constantly advised, by everyone from mental health campaigners to the partners they live with. These women are puzzled by the common male habit to spend an entire evening in the pub with longstanding friends, yet come home utterly clueless about the personal struggles in each other's lives. What might they possibly be doing, all that time? How come they didn't they inquired how X is handling his breakup, or how Y is dealing with the loss of his father?

For women, whose personal friendships typically revolve around an deep and detailed knowledge of each other's private feelings, this form of male intimacy—based on seemingly sidestepping serious conversation—can appear strangely empty and unfulfilling. It's no surprise, we think, that more than 25% of UK men state having no close friends; that male loneliness is endemic; that many hesitate to visit a doctor until seriously ill; that male suicide rates repeatedly outstrip female ones; and that countless middle-aged men, in particular, appear permanently frustrated for unarticulated reasons. Bottling emotions up benefits nobody.

Reconsidering the Merit of Silent Companionship

Yet, as per researcher Thomas Yarrow, this view may sell short the strengths of the strong and quiet friendship. Professor Yarrow, from Durham University, was researching volunteers at a historic steam railway in the north of England when he was struck by the closeness developed among these mostly older men. His four-year study has been published as a paper contending that, particularly for men brought up in an era of the stiff upper lip, the value of friendships centered on shared activities—"shared activity, often in companionable silence"—may be underrated.

This muted model of friendship "is not deficient or outdated, it's just different," Yarrow suggests.

Granted, this can sound disconcertingly similar to how toddlers interact—next to each other rather than engaging with each other. But Yarrow's point is clear: simply due to the fact that it's not your preferred version of friendship doesn't mean it lacks value. Perhaps we should leave these men in peace with their trains, golf, or classic car projects—whatever activity allows them to enjoy time in the company of others who likewise value less talk.

Past Verbal Expression: The Unspoken Dialect of Care

Thankfully, Yarrow is clearly not arguing that expressing emotion is weak, nor advocating for a return to the past. Instead, he makes the point that emotionally expressive talk is not for everyone, and that deeper things may be happening beneath the exterior of apparently reticent friendships. Could he be right?

From a female perspective, I'm clearly no expert on male-to-male conversation. But professional experience suggests that while men may be more reluctant at first to open up personal matters, once they begin, they can be remarkably open. A lack of visible emotion should not be equated with a lack of feeling entirely.

Furthermore, while younger men brought up in a more emotionally open culture may be better at voicing feelings, older men are not at all incapable of it. Repackage soft emotions as masculine "sports loyalty" or "team allegiance," and many men will readily express frustration, yearning, discontent, or satisfaction endlessly.

What is striking about Yarrow's railway enthusiasts is that, for all their horror of discussing feelings, they still managed to express what seems remarkably like concern and solidarity. When an elderly volunteer didn't appear and then returned clearly unwell, his friends noticed and were worried. However, as the professor notes, they deliberately didn't probe what was wrong. Rather, they offered tea, told jokes, and tried to be discreetly supportive while maintaining normality. They were looking out for each other pretty much as female friends would, but without ever verbally acknowledging the obvious issue.

The Core Question: Does Bonding Require Words?

It's not everyone's preferred method of connecting, and it may not be yours. But if the true beneficial value of friendship—what that fights loneliness and despair—is simply knowing that someone is there enough to walk through life's difficulties with you, does that invariably be articulated with words?

The debate persists. Maybe the healthiest approach is to acknowledge that varied styles of friendship carry equal worth, each meeting the psychological needs of different individuals in unique effective way.